The MOAB
by PurpleHairedGenius
Summary: What would happen if Archer and Pam kept seeing each other? And, more importantly, what would it eventually turn into? All characters belong to Mr Adam Reed and the fine folks at Floyd County :)
1. Chapter 1

The MOAB

Note: I don't own jack when it comes to anything Archer-related...I'm just a fan of the show who was severely disappointed at the total lack of stories...this is an exploration of what would happen if Archer and Pam kept seeing each other, and what it could become. No smut to speak of yet, maybe some in later chapters just for kicks. Either way, rated M for MSG, THE FLAVAH ENHANCAH!

Chapter One: Chicken and Waffles

"No...don't wanna wake up, no..."  
Sterling Malory Archer, world famous secret agent, muttered sleepily. He awoke in his bed, very, very hungover, and very, very satisfied.

Archer yawned, and turned over on his side to see the (massive) warm body snoring next to him; the large tattoo on her back and perpetually-well kept blonde hair indicated who his bed companion was.

"Oh man, not again...hey, Pam, wake up you big...whatever. Jesus, it smells like a chicken and waffles factory vomited on a distillery in here", Archer grumbled while shoving Pam's giant sleeping form off the king-sized bed.

She hit the hardwood floor with an audible thud.

"OW! Geez, all right, I'm up!", said Pam, picking herself up. "Hey, there's still some of that Glengoolie Blue shit left...wanna swig to clear the cobwebs?" She produced a bottle from under the bed, and twisted the cork out.

Pam took a decent sip of the expensive scotch, then offered the partially-full bottle to Archer, who nodded and accepted it eagerly, pouring the warm, soothing liquor down his throat.

Pam Poovey, the former human resources director for Isis-turned-field agent candidate, and, notably, the least physically attractive woman in the office, had been sleeping with the debonair top agent on and off discreetly for almost a year now. They made unlikely lovers, but when they were alone, nothing could hold a candle to the unbelievable sex they had.

Archer, who has had countless gorgeous women throughout his life (starting with his Brazilian au pair at age 12), never thought he'd find himself addicted to fucking his frumpy, bisexual former HR director.

Whenever they were in bed (or bathroom stall, or space station, or wherever else they could slip away to in secret), Pam would do such incredible things to Sterling's body, that his mind would simply shut down, unable to process the insane amount of pleasure that woman could cause...

"Hey, don't bogart the booze! We gotta get to the office soon, so get your pants on and let's go already!"  
Archer snapped out of his thoughts and set the nearly empty bottle down on the nightstand next to him.

Coughing a bit, Sterling sat up in bed, resting a hand against his temple. The headache that was haunting him was subsiding after drinking a bit, but still throbbed enough to make it's presence known. He turned to Pam, and, in a rare moment of seriousness, took her hand in his.

"Pam, we gotta do something about this."

Pam, confused and unsettled by this unfamiliar tone from her lover (or fuck buddy, as she liked to call him), sat down on the bed next to Archer.

"Um, okay...about what? You all right?"

"No, Pam, I'm not all right. Look, you know that you're the best sex I've ever had, and, well, I've compared you to a LOT of others, and you're still the best out of all of them. Shit, compared to you, Lana was like a crusty gym sock, and she's...well, Lana." Archer trailed off on that statement, remembering how much he used to adore that well-endowed, brown body years ago...after quickly gathering his resolve, he continued.

"Anyway, what I'm trying to say, Pam, is that I think we should-"

Just then, Archer's phone started ringing on the nightstand; the caller ID said it was Mallory.

"Aw, son of a shit-snacking whore! We're late! Christ, Mallory is gonna bite our heads off...think she'll be suspicious about us if we show up late together?"

Pam stood up and grabbed her purse. Already fully dressed, she looked down at Sterling, who was still naked and in bed.

He just stared at her with blank, ice blue, bloodshot eyes. The phone rang a few more times, then went to the answering machine.

"What the hell is wrong with you, bro? Did I give you brain damage last night or something?" Pam was really getting worried about Archer...it wasn't like the suave super agent to be so...out of it.

"No. I'm, fine, I guess...my head is just killing me...but Pam, seriously, what I was trying to say is that, I-uh, I think it's time we go public about us."

Pam dropped her purse and beamed, "REALLY? Oh wow, you mean we'd be like a real couple, and I can rub Cheryl's skinny little bird beak in it? And make Lana crazy from, well, whatever reason she'd find? Yaaayy! Hell yeah, let's-"

"ON ONE CONDITION, Pam! Jesus, jump to conclusions much?" Archer said while pulling on a pair of pants.

Pam's enthusiasm halted; this was more the kind of Archer she was used to.

"Oh geez...well, what's the one condition?"

Archer finished buttoning his shirt and reached for a dark blue silk tie tossed carelessly over a nearby lamp.

"The condition is, Pam, if you really want to be my girlfriend, like go out on actual dates in public and all that shit, you need to lose about 80 pounds. Seriously, you look like a barge."

Pam's jaw dropped in disgust and anger, and grabbed her purse off the floor. "WHAT?! A BARGE? Hey, fuck you, you scrawny little momma's boy! I'm who I am: a sexy, robust, real woman, not one of your dumb, rail-thin, fake-titted bimbos like-"

Archer cut off Pam before she could finish, pointing angrily.

"No! Do NOT say her name, Pam, or I WILL kill you!"

Narrowing her eyes in defiance, she uttered, "...like Katya."

Pam dropped her purse again, and braced herself for the imminent impact.

"I WARNED YOU, PAM!" Archer sprinted at full force across the bedroom towards Pam, intending to tackle her to the floor...instead of ramming his head and shoulders into Pam's solar plexus as planned, Archer slipped on a stray waffle soaked in chicken grease and fell squarely on his face.

Laughing at Archer's pathetic crumpled form, Pam walked over to the fallen agent, and helped him up.

"Did that knock the wind outta your sails, or am I gonna have to hogtie you up and carry you in the office like a briefcase?"

Archer, still aching from the fall, stood up slowly while leaning on Pam's large, strong shoulder.

"Shut up, you big idiot...I'm fine now. But seriously, don't bring up Katya. I mean, when your hot, Russian fiancée returns from the dead as a hot, Russian cyborg, then goes off and screws your bionic douchebag arch-enemy on what was supposed to be your wedding day, you tend to not want to think about any of that. Christ my head hurts...ow."  
Archer groaned and sat on his bed again, taking the bottle of Glengoolie Blue in his hand once more.

"Yeah yeah, I'm sorry...but don't fuck with me about my weight, most of this is muscle anyway" Pam smiled and flexed her massive arm to prove her point. "So...didja still wanna go public about us, or were you just bein' a dick?"

Finishing off the last of the scotch in a single gulp, Archer tossed the now-empty bottle to the floor.

"Nah...guess I was just being a dick. Speaking of dick...we're gonna be late anyway, and showing up even later will drive Mother nuts. How about you strip down and get back in bed with me?"Archer said while he unbuttoned his shirt, allowing his half-zipped pants to drop haphazardly after undoing his belt.

Clearly disappointed, but not one to reject easy pickings, Pam sighed, and started undressing.

"You're an asshole, y'know that?" Pam kicked off her skirt and climbed up onto the bed, crawling up to meet Archer's smirking, self-satisfied face.

"Yeah, I know. Now shut up and take care of this monster already." Sterling pointed down below his waist.

Pam did not disobey that request.

* * *

*ring ring*  
"Mmm, y'ello? Sterling Archer speaking."  
"Dammit, Sterling! You're over two hours late! You know we had a field agent meeting this morning at 8am sharp! I swear to God, your lack of punctuality is starting to influence the entire office! Why, even that fat lummox Pam hasn't shown up ye-"  
"HA! Voicemail! You know what to do, stupid."  
*BEEP*

Mallory crushed the tumbler of scotch in her hand and hung up the phone.


	2. Gypsy Moped

Note: Thanks for sticking with me, folks! Cranked out chapter two, drunk as hell on cheap rum and my own self esteem...let's strap ourselves in and see where this takes us, aww yeah. Rated M for Massive (impending) hangover.

Chapter Two: Gypsy Moped

The workday at ISIS after the (secret) couple arrived was fairly typical; quips and jabs between coworkers, Mallory flirted with some random guy on the telecom screen, while her husband, Ron, sulked in the corner muttering something about needing another cruise. Lana and Cyril sequestered themselves away from most of the others, Archer drank a lot and never acknowledged Pam's presence beyond insults or usual banter, and Cheryl ate a bottle of rubber cement...typical, boring day.

Sitting in the subway car to Queens, making her commute home, Pam glanced down at her phone to see if she missed any calls or texts while she was walking to the station.

The small LCD light on the screen blinked, indicating an unread text...it was from Archer.

Sighing in anticipation of what he had to say, she opened her phone and read the message:

My place? (duplicate)

Pam furrowed her brow in annoyance at the "duplicate" suffix placed at the end of the message; scrolling through the previous texts from Sterling, she found that he had sent her that exact same text more than 60 times since she got his number nearly a year ago that insane, booze-soaked night.

The ground rules she laid out the night Nikolai Jackov was killed were abided by both herself and Archer, said ground rules being simply,

1) The manner of their relationship behind closed doors are to remain secret no matter what unless Archer gives the go-ahead, and

2) The safe word is "Holstein surprise".

In retrospect, Pam honestly wished that she made additional demands while she still had Sterling under her thumb, like

3) No takey-backsies on Rule 1, because I think I might actually be in lo-

"AW SHIT-FUCKING NUTSACKS, I think I'm in love with that sonofabitch! Goddammit!"

Pam bounced up from the hard plastic subway seat from the initial panic of her realization; thankfully, the only other passenger in the car with her that night was a little old Czech lady who was either deaf or dead, at least from a cursory glance...either way, she did not flinch at the sudden movement.

"...shit, shit, shit, SHIT! When the hell did _that_ happen? More importantly, when the hell did I get all sentimental and soft? And _for Archer_? Holy fuckballs, what am I gonna do? Aww, dammit..."

Pam paced up and down the aisle nervously, muttering to herself, trying to wrap her mind around how she could've possibly allowed herself to fall for the worst possible man in the world for any self-respecting, plus-sized woman like herself to fall for.

She looked down at the clock on her phone, it was just slightly after 6pm, so she could still catch the connecting train back to Manhattan to go to Sterling's penthouse.

Never a "sensitive" type, the realization that she had strong, genuine feelings for another human being, feelings that went deeper than just sex, feelings that were more multi-dimensional than simple carnal drive, scared the usually-well-balanced Pam beyond belief.

"Christ, maybe he feels the same way...hey, maybe that's why he brought up the whole going public thing earlier...holy shit, what if he'd actually go out with me for real if I reduced the ol' keg down to a forty?", she pondered aloud, jiggling her belly and not caring about the frail woman hunched over in the corner of the car.

"Oh man, of only there was a way I could know for sure how he felt before I asked Archer what his deal is...HURK!"

The subway train slammed to a sudden, violent halt; the lights buzzed and popped off in the car, and a spray of hot white sparks flashed on either side of the windows in the darkness.

"What the shit was that?" Pam hoisted herself up off the grimy floor, and looked to where the old woman was before the crash.

"Hey old timer, you all right? Hello?"

Pam strained her eyes against the dark, trying to force her eyes to adjust and detect any human-shaped figures...there was only a dull wheezing sound to be heard...then the faint sound of someone chuckling softly.

"Huh...'kay, yeah that's pretty dang creepy. Well, usually I'm up for beating the crap outta freaks in subways, but I'm in love for the first time in my life and on my way to his place to figure out if the fella I'm after feels the same way, so...yeah I gotta bounce. Consider yourself lucky. Later, tater!" Pam backed away from the chuckling noise, towards the flashing red emergency exit door, when, unexpectedly, the faint laughing was on either side of her, then behind, then above her head.

"Jesus, what the hell is going on? Did Cheryl slip a groovy bear in my coffee again?!" Pam put her fists up in a defensive stance, expecting to either be jumped at any moment by the menacing, unseen-but-definitely-heard source, or start tripping balls any second.

"Pamela Pauline Poovey, you are quite the unusual woman, so tough and gruff in your ways, and so willing to live life to it's fullest, but always the moped, never the sports car, eh? Aaaahhh-hahahahaa...", a haunting voice breathed out from an undermined location in the car.

"...h-how'd ya know my name, spooky subway voice?" Ignoring the snide insults, Pam put down her fists, and felt around blindly to try to find the owner of the mysterious voice.

"Oh Vespa woman, you know not of what you are, do you?"

Pam stopped her feeling around the air of the car, "Well, what am I, Casper the Friendly Douchebag?"

"You will be th-"

Just then, the lights flicked back on and the subway croaked back to life; a tiny, wrinkled, ugly old face was planted directly in front of Pam's nose.

She jumped back, and, after catching her breath, cried "what the shit is wrong with you, you crazy old hag?! You nearly made me jump outta my britches!"

The old lady shot Pam a dirty look, cleared her throat, and finished her statement.

"You will be the moped that is fueled by heart-blood, and you will jump over the canyon into the realm of caution, victorious!", the little old lady cried, jamming a bony old finger upwards.

Pam stared in disbelief at the old woman, bewildered.

"That'll be $8, young lady."

The old woman extended her hand towards the very confused and speechless Pam, expecting a payment.

"Hey, snap to, Dame DeLuise! You just got a custom reading by The Old Gypsy Woman, I'm kinda famous. Now cough up the dough!"

Pam, still reeling from the otherworldly experience, and an ominous, surprise message from Cheryl's goto-crazy enabler, produced a $10 bill from her raincoat pocket and gave it to the old gypsy woman.

"Um, keep the change..." Pam trailed off, watching as the old woman departed the train after stuffing the cash into her pocket without a word.

Pam shook her head to clear the weirdness away, pulled out her phone, and called Archer to come pick her up.

* * *

*ring ring*  
"Hi, you've reached the voicemail box of Sterling Archer, I'm not here to answer my phone right now, please leave a-" **HHHHOOOOOOOONK**  
"SON OF FREAKIN' BITCH! Ow...damn idiot and that airhorn! Archer, listen, it's me, Pam, come pick me up, I'm at-"  
"...leave it."  
*beep*

Pam resisted the strong urge to crush her phone, and left a message.


	3. Spy vs Spy (In Training)

Note: Sorry for typos in my last chapter; too much alcohol in my system tends to mess up my brain's spell and grammar check abilities. The middle name I came up for Pam, Pauline, was an interesting tidbit I picked up: President Taft's pet holstein cow was named Pauline; thought it'd be something Mr Poovey would add to his daughter's name ha ha anyways, back to writing this thing (sober this time, promise). Oh, and a bit of smut in this chapter, the next chapter will be like 95% filth...enjoy

Chapter Three: Spy vs Spy (in training)

"So you finally met Cheryl's creepy gypsy woman, huh? Wow, I thought for sure she was just making shit up...freaky." Archer glanced at Pam, sitting in the passenger seat of his El Camino. They were speeding through the streets to get to his penthouse.

"Yeah, weird shit...still trying to figure out what she said though...the moped part I get-"

"The first step is admitting it, Spree"

"Shut up, shit-brain...but what the hell would 'canyon of the realm of caution' be..." Pam trailed off in thought, as Archer turned his radio up to try drowning out Pam.

Kenny Loggins' Danger Zone was on the tape, no surprise to anyone...

"...aww crap, that makes sense now", Pam said to herself.

Archer was too wrapped up in singing along (loudly) to the song to hear her or notice that she was staring at him.

"HIIIIGHWAY TO THE DANGER ZONE! GONNA TAAAAKE YOOOU RIGHT INTO THE DANGER ZONE! HIIIIGHWAY TO THE DAAAAYN-JA Z-OH-NAH!" Archer belted out entirely out of key, completely ignoring Pam, drumming his hand on the steering wheel, his right hand's thumb tapping to the drums on the gear knob.

Pam couldn't stop looking at Sterling; his idiotic fixation on the tired 80's pop song and bad singing would typically cause her to laugh her ass off at it's absurdity, but, at that moment in her life, that ridiculous display was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen or heard.

Overwhelmed, Pam followed her natural instincts and reached towards the parking brake.

"...RIGHT INTO THE DA- **OH SHIT**!" Archer's singing was abruptly ended by two sudden interruptions, the first interruption being his prized El Camino had lurched to a squealing, side-spinning halt, maneuvered expertly into an abandoned parking lot by his passenger grabbing the steering wheel and pulling the parking brake at 45 mph, and the second being 250 pounds of Pam grabbing his right wrist, pinning it over his head, and suddenly kissing him. The tape in the stereo clicked to a stop, leaving nothing but the soft hiss of static to pour out of the car's speakers.

Considering that out of all the crazy things they did to each other sexually, kissing was something they had never done; too intimate, apparently. Sterling was surprised at Pam's bold move, however, and was intrigued.

Always open to experimentation, Archer allowed it to see where she was going with this. He relaxed the arm she was gripping onto, allowing her to move closer.

He closed his eyes, and parted his lips, allowing Pam's agile tongue access. He knew Pam had a...talented mouth (it was a struggle to not think about the countless billiard balls that had been crammed into her mouth before), and it showed in how she massaged the tip of her tongue against his hard palate firmly, yet just ever-so-gently...

...Sterling moaned quietly against Pam's lips, beginning to feel that ecstasy she induced deep down in his stomach begin to build up. Pam cracked open her eyes a little to steal a glance of Archer in his vulnerable state, and was incredibly aroused by the mix of emotions and tactile, visual, and auditory information flooding her mind...

...in the blue glow from the dashboard, Pam could see that Sterling's inky blue-black hair was slightly messy from rubbing against the leather of the car seat, his lips were somewhat pink and swollen from kissing, his face was flushed, and, letting get gaze slip downwards, his erection was starting to noticeably strain against the fabric of his pants.

"Holy shitsnacks, you're hot", Pam breathed, and moved back into their kiss.

"Weird...usually she talks a lot dirtier than that...mmm, whatever." Sterling thought, his mind too focused on his mouth to think about anything else.

He shut his eyes once more, and started flicking the tip of his tongue across Pam's, trying to not let his free hand wander off too much out of fear of grabbing a handful of...Pam handles.

Even though she could give him the most intense orgasms he'd ever experienced, he just couldn't get over the fact that she was, well, Pam.

The weight issue was definitely a factor, but her personality, her farm-girl upbringing, her strange hobbies...none of those were exactly qualities in what he would consider his ideal woman...but what if...she _was _his ideal woman, and he never really saw it before...no. No way...he'd die of humiliation if anyone found out that he feels...feels?

Oh God.

"Mmffh, fuck, Pam, hey wait...", Archer stopped making out with her, his blue eyes popping open at the realization.

Pam stopped unbuttoning Archer's shirt and gazed up. "Yeah, Sterling?"

She never called him by his first name.

He paused to look into her blue-green eyes, to search for a sign that there was mutual truth to what he was feeling. It was there, and that was all the permission he needed to say what was on his mind.

"I...I think I love you, Pam" Sterling's eyes nearly bugged out of his head, surprised by himself.

Pam's heart leapt into her throat, washing pure joy over her upon hearing those words.

"You do? Hell, I think I love you too...wait, you're not just messing with me to be a dick again, are ya?" Pam cocked an eyebrow inquisitively.

"No, Pam...I'm totally serious. I'm just as shocked as you are, trust me, but yeah, either my years of alcohol abuse and Mother's psychological torture have finally caught up with me and my slender grasp of reality has been lost forever, or I, Sterling Malory Archer, genuinely, honestly am in love with you, Pam Poovey"

Sterling smiled gently, reached his right hand out of Pam's grip to intertwine his fingers in hers. With his left, he brushed the side of her face tenderly while staring into her eyes once more.

"Pam, you scored off the charts on the ISIS AP exam, you know when a person is lying to you...look at me, and you'll see that I'm saying the truth."

She gathered herself, and examined his face for any minute trace of dishonesty. There wasn't any...Sterling was dead serious.

Without breaking eye contact, Pam grabbed the door handle and shoved open the door.

"Let's do it in the back of this thing, and prove that you're not embarrassed of being seen with me. Then, I'll know for sure that you love me", Pam motioned towards the bed of the El Camino, which was lit by a nearby floodlight. Although they were parked in an abandoned parking lot on a side street away from prying eyes, Park Avenue, just a few blocks from Archer's penthouse, was bustling and within plain sight; they could be easily spotted if someone recognized the car.

Archer was taken aback by the challenge; he loved her, he was now sure of that much, but in the ashamed, dirty kind of way...the thought of what the others in the office would say if they found out him and Pam were not only screwing each other, but actually _in love_...made Sterling queasy just thinking about the humiliation. But would the risk of utmost humiliation worth actually being in a relationship with someone who genuinely made him happy, and who loved him back?

"S-Sterling? Well? Are we doing this or what?" Pam looked desperately into Archer's face, struggling to read his expressions enough to know if he loved her enough to show the world. After a few quiet moments of soul-searching, Sterling took a deep breath, and a wide smile spread across his face.

He stepped out of the car confidently, and took Pam's hand in his.

"Yes, we are".


	4. Let's Do Something Cheap and Superficial

Note: All right, bear with me, this is not only a long chapter, but it's also my first time writing full out porn, so if it's not very good, please just gimme some constructive critiques in the reviews so I can get better in later chapters...oh, and do a search of the title of this chapter on YouTube for a hilarious mindfuck...how the hell the human race lived past the 80's, I'll never know. Rated M for a really, REALLY good fucking reason.

Chapter Four: Let's Do Something Cheap and Superficial

Pam and Archer, holding hands and scanning the area for any prying eyes, assessed that they were indeed alone, and that they couldn't be seen easily from any vantage points.

Sterling, excited yet apprehensive, opened the tailgate of the El Camino, and led Pam by the hand onto the bed of the car/truck.

"Aww, gettin' all chivalrous on me, Prince Charming?", Pam teased while propping herself up on her elbows, trying in vain to get comfortable on the ridged, cold steel.

"Shut up, Pam...yeah, sorta. Hey, one sec, I have some emergency blankets behind the seats, that metal does _not_ look comfortable..." Pam rolled her eyes at him, annoyed, and got down to wander the parking lot while Sterling literally made the bed.

Archer rummaged through the car, and pulled out four large, thick army blankets.

"These ought to work...", he said to himself as he arranged the blankets down over the hard metal in layers; he put down two blankets folded over each other, then rolled up one as a makeshift pillow, and the last one was laid flat over all of it.

"Ta da! Instant king-sized bed! Not bad, right?" Sterling admired his work, proud of his ingenuity. The silence that followed caused him to look around, and he noticed Pam wasn't nearby.

"Pam?"

"Right behind ya, Mr Situational Awareness"

Archer turned around, and saw that Pam was standing there, completely naked, and had let her hair down.

Surprisingly, in the filmy yellow of the floodlight, Pam looked-

"Not bad, Pam. Christ, your hair is really long! It's...beautiful, actually. How come you never wear it down like this? It makes you look a lot better"

Archer marveled at Pam's long, silky, butter-blonde hair; it was long enough to cover her ass, and had a slight wave to it from years of almost-constant restraint in a tight bun.

"Gets in the way, but I guess wearing it up was a habit from the farm...it'd hurt like hell to get your hair caught in a baler. Nevermind all that crap though, c'mon, let's get under those covers already, I'm freezing my tail off!" Pam shivered against the chill of the night; it was early April, and their breath still lingered in the air on some nights...this was definitely one of those cold nights.

The two clambered into the blanket-covered truck bed, pulled the sheet above their heads, and just stayed huddled together a few minutes, face to face, warming up. Soon, once they were comfortable, they moved their faces closer together under the dimness of the blanket, and, brushing his nose against Pam's, Sterling kissed her, slowly and passionately.

Usually, Pam was the one who led their activities, but tonight was different. Tonight, Pam wanted Sterling to prove himself to her, and she wanted him to show it to her by taking the reins for once.

Archer pushed his tongue past Pam's lips, and explored. She tasted like an unusual, pleasant combination of fresh tomatoes, marshmallow, and some sort of familiar herb...

"You're stoned, aren't you?" Archer pulled away after identifying the "herbal" flavor, chuckling.

"You know it, Skinny! Sorry, I would've shared, but I smoked the last of my shit back there when you were over here fiddling with the blankets-"

Pam was interrupted by Sterling kissing her again, while he started unbuttoning his shirt the rest of the way.

Once his torso was bare, he brushed his palm against Pam's ample breast, and played with her nipple between his fingers.

She moaned softly at the sensation, which was amplified by the cannabis. She didn't want to admit it now, but she smoked the pot out of nervousness that Archer would withdraw his proclamation of love and leave her miserable, embarrassed, and lonely again. Thankfully, that didn't occur, so now she had the added bonus of being baked out of her gourd to this already amazing experience.

Archer started biting her earlobe softly while his hand continued working her breast; he moved down to her neck, where he planted several small kisses. He removed his hand from Pam's chest to ghost his fingers over her inner thigh, moving his hand up towards his destination, painfully slow.

"Goddamn, Sterling..." Pam's eyes fluttered shut in pleasure as he started flicking his tongue over her nipple while he circled his thumb over her wet clit slowly.

Sterling kept massaging her clit, and removing his mouth from her nipple, moved his head down, still being cautious not brush up against her large mid-section...damn, why can't she just keep the huge rack and remove that beer gut? He refocused on his task, and lowered his head.

Archer had eaten out many women before in his past, and had honed his skills quite well (mostly because he wanted to get the girl off as quickly as possible so he could fuck her senseless without hearing her whine about not coming afterwards), but now he actually wanted to make the woman beneath him feel good.

He removed his hand from Pam's wetness, and replaced it with a firm, long lick of his tongue against her. Pam gasped, and shuddered in response, encouraging him to keep going by putting her hands over his black hair.

Obeying the request, Sterling spread her labia open with his thumbs, and planted a soft kiss over her vulva before he rubbed his nose up and down over her clit, teasing her opening with the tip of his tongue...just the tip is all you need sometimes, Archer joked to himself.

He peered up over Pam's hairless womanhood, and could see that, still totally under the dark green army blanket, she had propped herself up against his makeshift pillow, and saw her eyes fixed on his, glassed over in sheer lust. Without breaking eye contact, Archer opened his mouth wide, and put his entire tongue inside of her, making counterclockwise circles.

Pam yelped and bucked her hips upwards against his mouth, causing the car to bounce on it's shocks; Sterling pressed her pelvis back down with his strong arms to regain control over Pam, steadying both her and his car. Her breathing was becoming ragged, and he could feel that trademark tremble in her legs, indicating that she was close to climax.

He pushed her over the edge when he started softly suckling her clit, humming deep in his throat so his lips vibrated against her, while he kept his tongue inside, making circles...the whole car rocked on it's tires once more when Pam jack-knifed upright with a yell, squeezing Sterling's ears between her shaking legs, yanking at his hair.

"HOLY JESUS JONES! OH...oh shit, Archer, that was-"

"Awesome, right?" Sterling cut her off, smirking while he wiped her juices off his chin with the back of his hand.

"See? You're not the only one with oral talents...", he exclaimed, while moving upwards to face Pam.

Pam, still out of breath from the amazing orgasm, just nodded in agreement; holy hell was he right.

Sterling, far from finished, planted a kiss on Pam's nose, then held her chin up with his hand while he started kissing her again, letting her taste herself on his mouth. He started undoing his belt, and shimmied out of his pants without breaking their kiss.

Archer sighed with relief when his erection was released from the constricting confines of his tailored pants; maybe he shouldn't have had Woodhouse make them tight in the crotch to accentuate things...no, that was one of the best decisions he made in his life.

Paying attention again, Sterling kicked off his pants and shoes, and moved on top of Pam; unfortunately, her large stomach made it clear that it would be difficult to...connect. He looked down at Pam, and, without having to say a word, she knew what he was asking. She removed the blanket from over their bodies, and maneuvered herself to be on top.

Despite her heavy weight, Pam had incredible body control; her light, nearly inaudible footsteps were a testament to this.

This is why whenever they fucked, Archer was never worried when she was on top (admittedly, he was terrified of being crushed at first, but she disproved his fears quickly), since she could balance herself on her haunches as to make sure almost none of her weight rested on him, yet could lower herself down to fully insert him.

Truly, she was more talented than most people gave her credit for.

Pam, resting in a squatting position above Archer, hovered her dripping wet slit over him teasingly, and rubbed her slick pussy up his shaft slowly, allowing her big breasts to press tenuously into his face. Impatient, he gripped his cock firmly and guided himself roughly into her insanely tight warmth.

Sterling's eyes nearly rolled back into his head in bliss; the abnormally intense, highly addictive ecstasy he felt when he was inside Pam was building steadily within his core...the powerful, familiar heat swelled within and drove his hips to move.

Looking up through half-lidded eyes, he could see wisps of steam coming off of Pam's naked body above him in the cold yellow light, the chill not even registering with either of them. She still wanted him to lead, so she kept herself still above him while he rolled his hips up, making Sterling facilitate all movement.

He grabbed Pam's soft ass with his strong hands, pounding his hard cock deep inside of her, driven purely by animalistic impulse at this point, grinding his hip bones hard against her, relishing in the feeling. At this moment, nothing else in Sterling's universe existed, all that was his world was him, Pam, the sounds of their breathing, and the crazy amount of endorphins coursing through his veins.

Sweat started beading on Sterling's body, he could feel his impending release building to a critical level quickly.

The feeling of Archer's sizable member ramming into her with utter abandon was causing Pam to groan loudly, her head thrown back, her mind swimming in dizzying euphoria; her arms and legs started to quiver once more from the intensity of it all.

Pam's inner walls started clenching down tight around his throbbing cock, a second orgasm pulled from her with a ear-piercing shout towards the rooftops of the entire Upper East Side. The pulsation of her slick walls around his cock proved too much for Sterling, and he too found his release.

"Oh fuck-oh-goddamn-shit-ahh...FUCK! PAAAAAAAMM!" Archer's toes curled and dug his fingers hard into Pam's soft flesh as he reached his peak, not caring that his own loud scream could be heard over the nearby traffic down several streets. His vision went white and sparkly for a few moments as he came back down to Earth.

Pam rolled off of Sterling, lying down next to him, both of them drenched in sweat, speechless. They stared upwards, watching the steam from their bodies swirl up in the yellow light, becoming invisible as it made dissipated into the night sky.

After a few minutes, Sterling got up and started redressing.

"So, _now_ do you believe I love you, Pam?" Archer inquired, looking over his shoulder as he tied his shoes, sitting on the tailgate of the El Camino.

Pam pulled her shirt back on, smiling wide.

"Yeah, you definitely have no shame, that's for sure", she laughed. Archer tossed a sock at her face in response.

They finished dressing, and folded up the blankets. After storing them back behind the seats in the car, Archer turned over the powerful engine and started driving them back to his place for a drink.

"So, what now? You were bold enough to not only toss me one outdoors, but you yelled my name so loud that folks up in Yonkers probably heard ya. Think you're bold enough to hold my hand in broad daylight yet?" Pam asked hopefully, fixing up her hair, using the vanity mirror on the passenger side sun visor.

Archer shifted down into second gear as he pulled the car into the underground parking garage of his apartment building, parked, and mulled over the question.

Eventually, he leaned on the steering wheel and looked sheepishly over at Pam.

"Umm, would you be mad if I said 'no'? I mean, yeah, eventually I'm sure I'll be ok with people knowing we're together, but-dammit, how do I explain this without sounding like a total asshole?" Sterling was getting frustrated; he loved Pam, but was still scared to have his reputation scarred for life for dating a woman of Pam's...caliber. Shit, if only she lost some of that weight, maybe then it wouldn't be as difficult to overcome the shame...

After an awkward moment's silence, Pam stared off into the distance, wracking her brain to find an amicable solution to her lover's dilemma. Then, out of the blue, a brilliant idea came to her.

A devious grin came across Pam's face, and she looked over at Archer excitedly.

"You think Krieger is still in his lab? 'cause I think I might have a way we can work this shit heap out for good by the end of the night...but let's get some drinks in us first, you sapped all the liquid outta me, big fella!"

* * *

_*ring ring_*

"This is the office of Dr Algernop Krieger. Not here, but if you leave your digits, I'll get back to you soon-"

"Oh, Krieger-San! My chelly brossums are brooming for you once more!"

"Dammit! I told you to stay in the van! Ah, gotta go. SMOKE BOMB!"

*_beep_*

"...uh, yeah. Krieger, it's Archer, it's about 8pm, call me back soon...fucking freak..."

"Hey Sex Bones, have I ever given you the Reverse Peach Cobbler? If we don't use up that maple syrup soon, yer gonna get ants!"

"...uh, gotta go"


	5. Chips and Dipshits

Chapter Five: Chips and Dipshits

Archer and Pam raced down the now rain-soaked asphalt of East 69th Street, on their way to ISIS headquarters a few miles away. Pam, after a lot of whining (and literal arm-twisting), persuaded Archer to allow her to drive his beloved El Camino...he was starting to regret that decision.

"Dammit, Pam, you better not bottom out...Woodhouse just polished the chrome on the fend-**OW**!" Pam gunned it over a bump in the road, causing Archer to bounce up in his seat, bumping his head on the ceiling of the car.

"Gonna quit bein' a trifling bitch now, or do you want me to get us there sometime this century?" Pam down-shifted into second gear around a corner, making the tires squeal in protest and the engine whine from overrevving.

Archer just scowled and remained quiet...she had a point, they were making incredibly good time; usually, when he drove to work, it took Archer 35 minutes. Pam got them halfway there in 10.

Banking left, Pam skidded the vehicle onto the street towards Popeye's Suds and Duds/ISIS. Pulling out her phone, she called Krieger's desk.

*_ring_*  
"Who's asking?!" Krieger shouted into the receiver.  
"Hey we're almost at the office, Clone Boy. You have that crap ready to go yet?"  
"Yep, yep yep!" Krieger said over the sound of a pneumatic wrench.  
"Good, buzz us into the building in a five" Pam hung up and put the phone back into her coat pocket.

Sterling produced a flask from his jacket, and took a sip.

"Pam, are you sure you want to go through with this? It's pretty invasive, I mean does being open to everyone about us really _that_ important to you?" Archer took another pull of whiskey from his silver flask.

Pam was usually so nonchalant about people making fun of her weight...Archer had definitely provided a good amount of those insults in the past, but now that he had looked past her appearance, and discovered how perfect she is for him, he actually felt somewhat guilty for driving her to such extreme measures.

Without missing a beat, Pam knocked the car into neutral and pulled the brake, parking in front of Popeye's wash n' fold.

"Yeah I'm sure. C'mon, let's go, it's now or never", Pam declared. She grabbed the flask from Sterling's hand, and downed a good portion before handing it back. Archer just looked at Pam with concern, took one more swig, and returned his flask to the inner pocket of his jacket. The door buzzed open, and the two entered the building.

Pam had a look of blank determination on her face as they rode the elevator up to Krieger's lab. All Sterling could do is look at the woman about to take a huge risk to her life because she loved him, but he couldn't love her back completely because of her appearance. It was enough to make him actually feel guilty...to which he responded to by finishing off the rest of the contents of his flask as quickly as he could to numb it away.

The elevator doors chimed and opened to the ISIS laboratory. Krieger was in the corner, soldering the device that would change the course of Pam and Archer's relationship.

Pam took Archer's hand, took a big breath, and they started walking towards Krieger's workbench. Both were silent.

"Ah, you're here! Okay, let's get started. Pam, you stay where you are, and Archer, you mind looking over there a sec?" Krieger pointed off somewhere.

"What? Ow, hey...dammit...P-Pam..." Archer dropped to the bright white linoleum of the lab's floor, the tranquilizer Krieger jabbed into his neck working almost instantly.

Looking down at Archer's anesthetized body, Pam sighed.

"Sorry, buddy...why'd you have to be such a dick about my weight? Oh well, this will make us both happy. All right, let's get him up on the table"

Pam hoisted Sterling up on her shoulder, and carried him towards the makeshift operating table. Krieger grabbed the microchip off his workbench, doused it in his Dixie cup of vodka to sanitize it, and walked to the unconscious spy.

He snapped on a pair of gloves and a surgical mask, grabbed his drill, and started laughing maniacally.

"What the hell is so funny?" Pam asked, while holding Sterling's head in her hands.

"I actually have no idea. I am...just fucking **SHITFACED** right now...meh, I feel steady enough. Now, let's **DOCTOR**!"

Krieger started drilling , while Pam looked away, holding Sterling's head gingerly.

"I hope to Christ this works..." Pam thought to herself, trying to ignore the smell of burning skull and the tiny fragments of brain flicking at her face.


	6. Behind (Glengoolie) Blue Eyes

Note: This is going to be the second to last chapter...this is also the longest one so far. Just wanted to say before I wrap this up, that this has been one of the most entertaining and challenging things I've written in a long time, and, when I'm not working on my own original stories I write on the side (not on ), I thoroughly plan on trying my hand at more Archer fanfiction in the future, so don't cry when it's all over (or at the end of this chapter...spoiler alert). Rated M for More Reviews, please!

Chapter Six: Behind (Glengoolie) Blue Eyes

"No...don't want to wake up, no..." Sterling Malory Archer, world famous secret agent, muttered sleepily. He woke up in his bed, very very hungover, and...wait, he didn't remember drinking last night.

Sterling, grabbing his sharply aching head and groaning in agony, swung his feet over the edge of his bed. Clenching his puffy eyes against the pain, he fumbled around blindly for a bottle of anything.

Instead of finding the familiarity of the satisfying, slick coldness of glass against his palm, Archer felt something warm, smooth, and very soft.

He cracked his slightly swollen eyes open, and, once his vision cleared and refocused, saw an amazing sight.

"Pam...? Is-is that you? Oh my God!"

Lying down on his bed, buck naked with her trademark tattooed back facing him and her hair let down to flow freely over the pillow, Pam appeared to have dropped down to 120 pounds, had immaculate D-cup breasts, and was toned to absolute perfection.

She yawned, and brushed away a stray strand of light blonde hair, and flipped over to face Sterling.

"Yeah, it's me, Slim...you like the new Pammy?", she pushed her ample, pert chest out towards him.

Archer rubbed his eyes in disbelief, and just stared at her, flabbergasted at the transformation.

"Yeah! Holy shit, Pam! What did Krieger do to you? You're fucking gorgeous!" Archer laid down next to Pam, running his hands over her new body in amazement. His headache had mysteriously vanished upon seeing Pam.

She brought a finger up to his lips, shushing him.

"Ah ah ah, that's a trade secret, but I'll tell ya soon enough...all you gotta do right now is sit back, enjoy the show, and take me out to lunch later today so you can show off your hot new girlfriend!" Pam exclaimed with a wide smile.

"Oh, and get me something to wear; none of my shit fits anymore..." Pam said as she got up and stretched.

"Wha-shit, you got it, hot stuff...goddamn!" Archer's eyes remained glued on Pam's tight, round, perfect ass as she walked to the bathroom.

Pam stuck her head out the bathroom, winked at a very astounded Sterling, and shut the door.

"Whew! Awesome, the visual input modification feedback whatchacallit thing seems to be working..." Pam thought to herself as she unzipped the black body suit she was wearing.

"Man, this thing is hotter than a pedophile at a little league swim meet!" She sprinkled some talcum powder inside the suit, and aired herself out in the cool air of the bathroom a few minutes.

The black, full-body suit Dr Krieger created for field agents (but had since been discontinued for being too cumbersome), named The ODO, or **O**ptical **D**elusion **O**utfit, covered in thousands of tiny reflective points, was based on motion-capture technology. It transmitted real time information to the microchip implanted in Archer's visual cortex, which was also wired to the backs of his retinas, creating a closed circuit between his eyes and his occipital lobe, allowing a tiny antenna the size and length of a strand of hair, to protrude from Archer's scalp to receive the information from the suit.

While wearing the ODO, from his perspective, Pam appeared to have the body her and Krieger designed for her last night with a state-of-the-art, ultra realistic 3D modeling program, but to everyone else, she's the same, fat Pam as before, just wearing a sparkly, black zentai with a battery pack attached to her hip...nothing weird about that to Pam, she'd just tell everyone she's trying out being a furry, and her kink was dressing up like a space bear...that's passable, considering the other weird shit that happened at ISIS regularly.

She felt awful having to lie to Sterling, whom she did genuinely love, but she honestly only wanted him to learn a lesson about looking past appearances and appreciating a person for who they are on the inside...but screw him...a BARGE?

No, fuck that.

Suit stays for now...the big reveal will come later. Or whenever the battery pack dies, whichever comes first.

"Pam...? Babe, you all right? Ha, holy shit, I can't believe I just called you 'babe', and I'm not even making a pig joke!" Sterling knocked on the bathroom door.

Pam gasped, and zipped the suit back on over her head, made sure the eye and mouth holes lined up properly, and checked the battery level.

"Uh, yeah, just pinching off the last of it! It's a big bastard! Be out in a sec!" Pam dusted her hands of the talc on a washcloth, flushed the toilet and went out the door to meet Archer.

"Wow, Pam, I still can't believe how well that simultaneous liposuction, boob job, and tummy tuck looks on you! That Krieger...I swear, his talents are lost at ISIS, he makes that douche from Nip/Tuck look like...like a blind kid at a Build-a-Bear store..." Archer marveled at Pam out on the terrace.

They were seated, and eating breakfast together. Pam, who had lied to Sterling about what happened last night in Krieger's lab, wore a very thin, see-through robe over the suit, as to not interrupt the signal to Archer's brain.

Woodhouse brought out another pitcher of Mimosas for the couple.

"Another Mimosa, dear?", the tired old valet offered to Pam. She graciously nodded, and held out her champagne flute. He diverted his gaze from her black fabric-covered face.

"His taste in women get stranger every year...", Woodhouse thought to himself.

"Oh, and don't forget, Woodhouse, you're sewing a dress for my newly hot _girlfriend _after you're done clearing the table, so quit wasting time with these pathetically weak Mimosas and get to bussing this shit, you old fruit" Archer scowled as he threw the glass full of watery Mimosa over the side of the balcony.

"Yes sir, very good, sir...", Woodhouse uttered as set the pitcher down on the table and shuffled back into the apartment "...ass...".

The old valet's last word went unheard by Archer, who had moved behind Pam's chair, and was now rubbing her shoulders and nuzzling her neck.

"So did you make up your mind on the material for your dress, baby? I was thinking you'd look drop dead hot in a green silk number, maybe backless, with a slit up the thigh..." Archer whispered the last of his sentence into her ear, running a finger along her thigh.

If it wasn't for the fact said ear and thigh were covered by the thick, black, itchy fabric of the suit, that probably would've felt really nice.

"Ah, you know what, hon, I'm still a little woozy from those surgeries, I think I'm gonna run inside and show my dress design to Bony Hill in there" Pam kissed his cheek and walked through the sliding glass doors back into the penthouse.

Archer, shunned, could only watch Pam's artificially-enhanced butt bounce as she walked away.

"...**OW**! Ugh, these headaches are getting worse", Sterling said to himself as he sat back down by himself at the patio table.

As he rubbed the back of his aching head, he noticed a new, tiny dent and an equally small spot of hair missing from his scalp...he also felt a thin metal wire poking out of the bald spot.

"What the hell...oh, dammit! Not again...", recognizing the feel of a freshly-drilled hole in his brain (this wasn't the first time...), and took a swig of the Mimosa in the pitcher and held an ice cube to the sore patch on his scalp.

Thinking hard, trying to remember if anything was amiss, he remembered talking to Pam through the bathroom door earlier.

"Wait...Pam always needs at least _three_ flushes to clear the toilet, not just one...something's not right here" Archer stood up, and winced when pain shot up the back of his head.

"...and these headaches happen only when she's not around...", he walked through his home, and turned the corner to the hallway. The shooting pain in his head was getting gradually more intense the closer he got to the sewing room.

"Ouch...fuck...so, since it's in the back of my head, that'd be right where...my...occipital lobe would be. Oh, god DAMMIT! PAAMMM!" Archer bellowed, enraged at realizing what had happened.

"THE ODO, PAM, WHERE IS IT?!" Archer slammed open the door to Woodhouse's sewing room. She was only wearing the suit from the waist down; she was using her tits with a strip of scrap fabric as she lounged on the chair in the corner while the elderly valet worked on an ultra-thin, skimpy dress.

Pam, panicking, jumped up from her seat, and stammered to explain herself.

"Archer! Hi! Yeah, I, uh, have no idea what you're talking about! What's an oh...an odor? Heh, I don't smell anyth-"

Sterling pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head, cutting off Pam's nervous ramblings.

"You're only wearing the bottom half of the suit, you idiot! You look like what would happen if you crammed the torso of Ms Piggy onto the severed lower body of a Barbie doll! That's fucking twisted, Pam! **WHAT THE FUCK DID MS PIGGY EVER DO TO YOU**?!", he slammed his fist against the wall, starting to shake from the wrath building in him.

"Well, I...well shit, Sterling, I wouldn't have had to put us through all this silly crap if you'd just get over yourself and treat me like a normal person! Who the hell cares what those morons at work think anyway? If you're happy, and I'm happy, everyone else can go fuck themselves for all I care, weight shouldn't effect who you can and cannot love!" Pam pulled the suit off of herself and kicked it away. She put her hands on her hips defiantly and waited for a response.

Sterling, boiling with anger, just stared at Pam, his face a bright red, his eyes seething with hate.

Finally, after a near full minute of staring her down, Archer narrowed his eyes, his vision blurring from the high blood pressure's effect on the wires still attached to his retinas, and walked slowly towards Pam, who backed up against the wall, feeling abnormally threatened by Archer's actions.

With clenched fists and blood boiling, he looked Pam directly in her face, his nose just a millimeter away from hers, hissing words through clamped teeth.

"Yes, Pam, weight _does_ effect who you can love...because love isn't for fat, lumpy, gross, _lying_ little sacks of shit, who use their fat, lumpy, gross, _lying_ little lips to suck down every last piece of food in the house, because Mother left them entirely alone for a week straight to go to Tobago, when he was home from boarding school for the summer in third grade, and he gained 20 pounds and got fat, and when she came back, she starved him for a month and he ended up losing 30 pounds...wow, that all kind of...spilled out. Holy shit..."

Archer, deflated and weak, just looked down at his feet blankly, the memory of being starved and neglected as a kid newly fresh in his mind. He stepped back a few paces away from Pam, allowing her to move again. Eventually, Sterling dropped down to his knees. He scooted backwards to rest his back against the opposite wall.

Pam sniffled, and wiped a single tear from her eye, saddened by Sterling's sad childhood. She sat down next to him, placing an arm over his shoulder to comfort him.

"Yeah, it's all coming back to me...yeah, that's the same summer I got drunk for the first time too...shit, that's when I started drinking...woah. I'm...I'm kind of a fucked up person, aren't I?" Archer put his hand on top of Pam's, looking at her for an answer.

"Yep, you're pretty fucked up, buddy. That definitely explains why you were so weird about my appearance though...shit, I would be too if I went through _that_ sorta crap as a kid...um, sorry, no offense", she patted his shoulder in sympathy.

"I'm sorry too, Pam, for everything...all the shitty things I've said to you over the years about you being fat...I'm sorry"

Archer just looked back at the floor, then, noticing that Woodhouse was still hemming the nearly translucent dress on the sewing machine in the corner, pointed an accusatory finger at the old man.

"And you! You let her starve me! FOR A MONTH! Where the hell were you when I needed you the most, you old bastard?", Sterling was getting mad again.

"I was taking a tour of the poppy fields of Afghanistan that month with Dicky, if I recall correctly...that month was, well-"

"Oh shut up, smackhound. Okay, yeah, you did make me all that soup and helped me get my strength back the minute you came back from...wherever...guess I can't be that mad at you...dammit. And you can knock it off with the dress already, she won't be needing it." Archer hugged his knees to his chest, and rested his chin on his kneecaps.

Sterling sat like that for several minutes, totally silent and lost in thought.

"...awkward. Well, I'm gonna grab my clothes from under your bed. This is uncomfortable enough without me being in the buff. I'll just grab a cab to work, all right? I'll see you around, Sterling. I had fun."

Pam, still nude, got up placed a platonic kiss on Archer's forehead, and left the room.

"Woodhouse...?", Archer croaked out after a few more minutes of silence.

"Yes, sir?"

"Can you make me some of that soup?"

Woodhouse smiled weakly, his paternal instincts softening his heroin-rattled nerves.

"Very good, sir, right away", he said, giving Archer a kind smile before leaving, closing the door behind him.

An hour later, alone on the floor, still hugging his legs, Sterling Archer sobbed quietly into the terrycloth fabric of his bathrobe sleeve, his head still aching, but still incomparable to the pain he felt in his chest.

It was in that moment, he knew that his love for Pam, the reason why he felt so amazingly good and free whenever they had sex, was for what she represented and not really for who she is. He was in love with her larger than life demeanor, the way she ignored the sophomoric remarks people said about her, no shyness or lack of confidence...she was Pamela Pauline Poovey, the one and the only, and she didn't hesitate to let the universe know it. She was genuinely everything that he tried to portray to the rest of the world; the boisterous, over-confident, nonchalant hero. He was just an imposter...a damn good one, sure, but still just an imitation of the real thing.

He knew would never get over the mental block of being seen together with such an extraordinary person in public as an item...compared to Pam, he felt like he was nothing, a greasespot, a nobody...and his ego just wouldn't allow that. He was Sterling Mallory Archer, the world's deadliest secret agent, and he would be damned if he would ever be overshadowed by a trainee. A trainee manatee.

That was it. They were doomed from the get-go, and somehow, he realized, that Pam saw it before he did.

Archer, heartbroken, stood up with a sigh, and left the sewing room to call Pam to break off the nanosecond-long relationship they had...

...still, it was the best relationship Archer had ever been in, and one he'd never forget.

The smell of bean and barley soup wafting through his home soothed Sterling's nerves as he picked up his phone, and dialed the number for Pam.

(Very nearly) The End


	7. The Mother of All Bombshells

Epilogue: The Mother of All Bombshells

About 3 months had passed since Archer and Pam ended their strange excuse for a relationship; they remained friends, but all sexual and emotional ties had been disintegrated since they broke up.

After the SeaLab incident, Lana had revealed to everyone that she was pregnant. It was evident that Sterling's heart belonged to her (even though the baby was from a donor...no one but Lana knew who the father is), even going do far as to temporarily die for her. She could tell that Archer would at least be a good father figure to Lana's future child, and be a much better parent than Mallory ever was for sure.

Pam smiled and raised her aluminum cup of Mallory's homemade "bellini" to the mom-to-be, with an awkward "hip hip!"...she was glad that someone loved Sterling enough to comfort him at the hour of his death, and be there for him when he pulled a Lazarus and came back.

Pam was also glad no one asked her why she looked a tiny bit fatter than usual...her own baby bump was hidden well beneath her fat, lumpy, beautiful, lying stomach.

Pam smiled, and discreetly dumped the remainder of her cup into the plant behind her.

She didn't want to steal Lana's spotlight...this was her night.

Pam would drop that bombshell on Archer when they returned to dry land.

**THE END**


End file.
